If you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself. Or...if no one else is there to do it for you...

First of all, if you have not read the first part to this story, you really should do that before you get into this one.

With that said...onward and upward we go...

They said to come back in 8 weeks to leave a sample to have it tested. If any of my little friends are still loitering inside me, I’ll have to come back in another 4 weeks to leave a second sample to be tested. In the mean time, I’m supposed to have as much fun with myself as I possibly can (because I don’t have a spouse or girlfriend to help me out in this arena) to ‘clean the pipes’ out. (if ya knowhatimean – nudge nudge, wink wink.)

So the first weekend I lay around with a bag of frozen peas on me. No big deal. I could use the break. After the allotted time frame was up (2 weeks) I slowly get to work on my ‘self pipe cleaning’. I’m extremely nervous at what is going to happen. I don’t want to undo anything the doc had done and I’m concerned about the quantity (or lack there of) of fluid that is about to come out. I’m sailing uncharted waters here and my semen are looked up in the brink for the rest of their lives! I quickly learn that the ‘unknown’ is a real big turn off for me. I just can’t do it. I need to, I want to, just can’t.

After a few days of getting to know myself better, I decide it’s time to try again. I’m not the first one that has had this done, and others say there is no difference, so what the hell is my problem? I’ve just got to grab the bull by the horns and get the job done! So that’s what I did……and it was the longest 8 seconds of my life. In the end, victory was mine! I showed that bull who was boss and when we were done, he cowered and limped his way in front of me and I knew right then HE knew who was in control. We never had a fight again after that.

During my ‘cleaning’ tenure, I had asked friends of mine what the 8 week visit was going to bring. How ‘things’ where going to be taken care of. Where the deposit could be made. Options of anyone helping with the process. You know, things that everyone would want to know. I was told by one friend that his wife helped him at their house and he just took it in. Another told me he STILL had not gone in to get tested. (1 year later). Another told me he had to go in to the office and produce his junk there. I was not sure how this office handled it, so I called.

Here’s how the conversation went:

ME: Yes, I need to come in, in a few days, for my post-vas appointment test. My question is, do I have to actually come in to the office and produce it there, or can it be done in the comfort of my home.
NURSE: Unless you can have it here in 10 min, you’ll have to come in and produce it here. You don’t have to make an appointment either, you can just come in and we’ll put you in the room. You may want to call ahead of time to make sure the room is open though.
ME: ok…
NURSE: If you’d like, you can bring your spouse with you too.
ME: Great! Thanks for the info. (not that it’s any of her business, but I no longer have a spouse. I’m flying solo on this one.)

Now, to me, this implied that they have ‘a room’ just for this kind of thing. I’m imagining something like a dark room with dark walls, dim lights, TV with videos and magazines, plush carpet and a velvet couch/love seat and a locking door. Maybe I’m asking for too much? I can dream right? Hindsight I realize, a) I’m not in Beverly hills, and b) It cost me less than a grand for this surgery. What should I expect?

That Friday it was 8 weeks. I figure I’d cut out of work a little early and go make a deposit. On my way there, I call to see if ‘the room’ was open. They tell me it is and to come on in! I hang up and laugh at the pun.

I get there right at 4pm. It’s a Friday mind you, and the place is packed, AGAIN! Great. I wonder how many are there to do the same thing I am. I walk up to the check-in window to let them know what I am there for. Behind the window sits this really cute (mormon type cute) big breasted 17 yr old girl behind the desk. (looked like she was 17 anyway).

‘Hi. I had a vasectomy 8 weeks ago and I’m here to…a…well…a, leave a sample.’

‘Oh, ok…you have it with you?’

The correct answer to this would be yes, but it’s going to take a minute to give it to you! Lol

‘Um, no…a….’

‘well, you can take this cup with you and bring it back Monday if you want. Do you live within 10 minutes?’

‘Um, well, no…I’

‘Well, we are pretty busy, we don’t have any rooms open right now…you want to come back?’

I just called and the room was open. Now no rooms are available and the waiting room is packed? What the hell happened?

Look – I was there. I didn’t want to put this off any longer than I had too. I Needed to take care of it as soon as possible. The ‘job’ was killing me. I was prepared to wait for an hour, even though the nurse on the phone told me that Friday at 4pm may not be a good time because they are all wanting to get out of the office and start their weekend as soon as possible. And the longer they have patients in there, the longer they have to wait. I can respect that, so I was prepared to get in there and take care of business and get out. FAST! Well, little miss BBUMG (big breasted Utah mormon girl) had the whole office packed with people and no room at the inn! No one was happy there.

‘No – I don’t want to come back. I’ll wait.’

‘Ok’ she said.

So I had a seat and started looking at a motorcycle magazine, and low and behold, girls in bikinis posing next to bikes! Good stuff. Help me get BBUMG out of my head since I didn’t bring any material to assist with my job I was about to do. I assume they will have something in ‘the room’ that is designed for this kind of activity. After treating myself like an amusement park for the past 7 weeks, I needed something for the imagination.

5 minutes later she calls me back.

‘A room just opened up so you can come back now.’

‘ ‘A’ room huh?’ I ask jokingly as I leave the waiting room. She ignores me. It’s after 4 on a Friday and the waiting room is packed. No, she’s not in the mood for jokes.

She leads me thru the doorway into the hall and into the second room away from the waiting room. A typical exam room. Nothing special here. Just an exam table, a chair and a sink.

‘This one right here.’ As she is flipping up all the different colored flags on the wall next to the door to signal to the entire staff as to what is happening in the room.

‘Right here?’ I asked.

‘Yeah – here is your cup. Just bring it up to the desk in the waiting room when you are done.’

‘The front desk in the waiting room? With all the people in it?’

‘Yeah. Thanks.’ And she closes the door behind her.

All of a sudden, everything became very quite. Maybe because I was in shock over what is going on here. Tunnel vision was setting in. Every thing was getting foggy and I felt like I was moving slower. I look over at the exam table with the plastic paper on it, the empty chair next to it that seemed to have eyes and was staring at me…then over to the sink, and counter top. Then over to the ‘penis anatomy’ poster on the wall (ya – the one cut in half to see the insides!) and finally back to the door. I imagined several of the nurses on the other side crouched over with their ears pinned to the door snickering to each other. How old am I? I spotted the light switch next to the door and glanced up at the light. It was the brightest light I have ever seen. I considered turning it off, but never did. (hindsight, I really should have).

I walk over to the door to lock it. To my shock, the door does not lock. It’s a fake lock. The door does not lock. Let me say that again…THE DOOR DOES NOT LOCK! How am I supposed to do this. I feel like George Castanza! Is this really happening? Where are the cameras? This is insane! This room was not specifically designed for this kind of activity! This is nothing like what they had told me! I was dooped! I’m getting punked, I just know it! What am I going to do? How am I going to do this?

I pull my thoughts together and try to focus and rationalize. It’s a doctors office. This happens daily in there. I am not the first, nor will I be the last. The flags are up for a reason and everyone out there knows what the reason is. I am just another man doing what needs to be done.

As I continue to gather my senses, my sight starts to return and things are moving a little faster now. I start to hear people talking and walking past my door. I watch the door knob as they walk past and keep talking. Soon, I hear the receptionist up at the front desk in the waiting room speaking to another patient. Then a nurse walks past with another nurse. Both talking away. Then, I swear I heard a pin drop in the next office over! Everything now seemed to be magnified! I could hear things I thought I could never hear. It’s like I’m in the middle of the hallway, naked, with people walking around me while I am trying to do what used to be my own little private 8 second bull ride. It’s like the door is not even closed! I continue to keep my eyes on the door knob, and that don’t help the situation at all!

I look around for some visual assistance because I imagined a small collection of visual stimulants in ‘the room’. Nothing. The place was clean. No Glamore magazine or anything! All I have is the girl in the bikini next to the bike in the magazine that is now only in my head!

So with that, I thought to myself…Let the games begin!

35 minutes later (which I thought was not too bad considering the circumstances) I was walking up to the front desk dropping off my little deposit.

‘How soon before the results are back?’ I asked.

‘Should be quick.’ She said.

‘Quick? Like, can I wait here…quick?’

Laughing…she says, ’we should know in 2 or 3 days. We’ll call you with the results’

A week later, I call back because I hear nothing, hoping no news is good news.

‘Hi, I need to get the results from my post-vas appointment.’

‘Um – yeah…they found some sperm in your semen. It don’t mean the procedure did not work, it just means that some sperm in your vas deferens lines AFTER the surgical site have not come out yet. You need to have more ejaculations and come back again in another 4 weeks and give us another sample to test.’

Ya-right, come in and give another sample!? Are you kidding me!?.....

4 weeks of torturing myself go by and it seems like 8 (teen) more weeks. Doing it for fun is one thing, but when it’s a job and HAS to be done it kinda looses its appeal. I went through with it again, and the experience was just the same as it was the first time. Worst possible experience I have gone through. Test came back and all my buddies are out. Finally!

Now…on to find someone to test this out on…..

Life changing decisions

Now, I have to admit, I’ve done some stupid things in my life, but nothing like this. This guy has got some big balls or he is a complete idiot.

Here’s the story....

D and I are waiting outside the mall entrance this afternoon to meet up with T and G for lunch at the food court. There are 2 sets of double doors at the entrance to this mall. 4 doors all together.

A beautiful woman walks up to the entrance with her husband pushing their kid in a stroller right behind her. At the same time a very good looking blonde lady walks up to the same entrance from a different direction but approaches the other set of double doors.

The wife opens what would be door #1 on the far left for her husband to push the stroller through. At the same time, the good looking blonde opens what would be door #3 on the other set of doors to the right and looks over at him.

This man is directly lined up with door #1 and is just feet away from being inside when he sees that the other woman was holding the door open and waiting for him to push the stroller in her door.

I understand that in most cases, important, life changing decisions have to be made in the blink of an eye. Some of these decisions can be very difficult to make and some come with experience and are very easy to make. This, my friends, was a very easy one to make and could have life altering effects on this man.

This man stops the stroller just feet away from the threshold of his wife’s door, shuffles his feet backwards, turned the stroller in the direction of the other woman and pushes his stroller out and around and into the door the other woman is holding open for him. All while his wife, still holding the first door open, watches him. As this man enters the door, he makes eye contact with this woman, smiles, and thanks her for holding the door!

This man actually STOPPED just FEET away from being intelligent. He’s a dead man walking. This man is so dead. How stupid can one be? His wife was standing there with the door WIDE open and he was right in front of it. He could have let go of the stroller and it would have rolled right in. But no! There stand a good looking blonde holding another door open and he took it. Actually had to back up! WITH HIS KID IN THE STROLLER! What an idiot.

Snip, Snip

I got there 10 minutes early. I was ready. The waiting room was full. I thought for sure I was going to be a while. As I was signing in, the receptionist took my name, pulled my chart and told me to ‘come on back!’ Not sure what everyone else was waiting for, and I wasn’t going to ask. It IS a Urologists office after all.

As we are walking down the hallway, the cute 21ish ‘receptionist’ asks if I’m ready to do this. “I was ready years ago! Just never needed to get it done.” Now that I’m divorced, and don’t want anymore, I’d like to get it done.” “I see” she says.

She gets me into the room and asks if I have any questions, and then tells me to get undressed except I can leave my socks and shirt on, then get on the table and she’ll be back to get me ready.

I’m up on the table with the paper blanket over me for a matter of seconds, and she strolls back in and starts small talk with me as she is preparing the ‘tools’ for the doc. She stands next to me and says “ok - you ready to get this started?” “Lets get-er-done!”

She pulls the paper down off of me. As she does this, I like any other guy would, watch her face for the expression. (I do have an ego here, and she, I’m sure, has seen plenty, so I’m looking for the reaction.) No reaction. Nothing. No snicker, no raise of the eyebrow, nothing. My ego was neither crushed nor ballooned. I was disappointed I got nothing, but happy she didn’t express what I knew she did when she turned to the sink to get the sterilizing solution warmed up for me.

Seemed like she was taking forever at the sink. The room was cold and she actually mentioned that she was sorry that. “the doctor likes it cold like this.” Now I knew what was going on. I wanted to make reference to the shrinkage factor when cold becomes a factor, but I didn’t.

As she continues to take forever at the sink, she mentions she is trying to warm the water up for me, but it is not very warm. “Your killing me!” I say. “The room is cold enough and you got me naked over here, now your going to put cold water on me!? Your smashing my ego you know,” She laughs and says, “your fine. Really” She rubs the ‘site’ down and covers me up with a surgical ‘napkin’ and says she’ll be back in a few minutes with the doc and get this over with.

I wasn’t nervous. Uncomfortable maybe, but not nervous. They had a little radio in there playing some soothing Jazz music for me, so I just lay there trying to relax, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

15 minutes later, an older nurse knocks and walks in. “Sorry, just passing thru real quick. Just got to clean some things up. So how was it? You doing ok?” “haven’t started yet.” I said. She says “you’re kidding!? You should be done already. When I get done here I’ll go get them for you.” “Thanks” I said. She starts up some other chit-chat and then after a few minutes leaves.

15 minutes later, ANOTHER older nurse knocks and walks in. “Don’t mind me” she says. “Just got to clean some things up and I’ll be out of your way” “Am I in the break room?” I ask. “She laughs and says “it would seem like it, wouldn’t it? This is the room with the sterilization in it.” “I see.” She asks me how it was and how I’m doing. “I’m a little cold laying here in my vulnerable state with this napkin over me waiting for the doc to come in and do his thing.” “He has not come in yet?” “nope” “well, I’ll go out there and see what’s going on and get him in here.” I say thanks and she takes another 5 minutes then leaves and says she will get the doc.

By this time, I am getting really tired of just laying there. I actually start to fall asleep. Here I am, naked, with a napkin over me, in a chilly room, falling asleep.

10 minutes later, (a total of 45 minutes now if your not keeping track) the first ‘older’ nurse comes in and says “so how did it go?” “No Doc yet” I said. “That’s crazy she says. After I finish here, I’ll go see what is going on.” Again, I ask about the ‘break room’ theory and start talking about jokes of the procedure and she chit-chats more about her husband and what he thought of the procedure and what not, then says she will go get the doc.

It has now been 1 full hour since the cute 21 yr old nurse left and said she would be “right back with the doc.” The cold room and vulnerable position I am in has taken its toll on the shrinkage factor. I’m starting to wonder if the procedure can even be done at this point. They’ll have to bring in a search and rescue team in first!

As I think this, the doc flings the door open and steps in with the 21 yr old right behind him. They are chatting something about some actress being cute or not. He says sorry it took so long. He was called in on an emergency surgery. “I’m never called in on emergencies, but I am the doctor on call this week, so I had to go.” “All good” I say. I wanted to ask what the emergency was but not only was he and the nurse in a deep conversation, but he is a urologist, so I really didn’t want to know.

They start the procedure and all goes well. All the while, he and the nurse are talking about Hollywood smut and cracking jokes. Kind of hard to stay still while laughing. After all, he does have a sharp knife and a pair of scissors inside my testicles. I really, really don’t want to move at all.

The doc sews me up and goes on his way like I am on an assembly line, and he has a quota to meet. I’m sure the emergency set him back a few patients. It is getting late and the clock is ticking. Crunch time!

The nurse covers me with a blanket, finally, and grabs a cold pack and laterally drops it on my boys. She DROPS IT! On purpose! Has she no compassion!? Has she no idea what that does? She obviously doesn’t have a pair and thinks that just because mine are still numb that it doesn’t matter. Well, I’m here to tell you, numb or not, IT MATTERS!

“Oh – that wasn’t good” I said. “Sorry about that” she says, “here’s your book, need anything else?” “Yeah – grab my phone for me please”. She hands me my phone and says she will be back in after about 20 minutes to check on me.

10 minutes later, she walks back in and says, “Ok – you ready to go?” “ya – right, I’m ready.” I said 100% jokingly. “ok. Get your close on and here is your ‘post-op’ instructions.” As she takes my ice pack off and stores it back in the freezer. “Are you kidding?” I say. She says, “Why” You not feeling ok?” “No, I’m fine, but it was my understanding that I was going to be here for at least 30 min. after the procedure.” She says, “yeah- but you look like your doing well, so you can go.” “It’s been 10 minutes!” “you can stay if you want” she says, “but you look good enough to go.”

By this time I knew what was going on and they obviously needed the room for the next lucky contestant. So I got dressed and was on my way, looking forward to the next visit in 8 weeks when I have to come back in and leave a deposit of junk to be tested to see if it worked. That will be good.

Stay tuned…

The shot of a lifetime.

I went golfing over the weekend with my 14 year old son Jordan, my brother, Terry and his brother-in-law, Wayne. Here is a recap of the only event that afternoon worth mentioning.

Back 9, 18th hole. 147 yard, Par 3. Last hole of the round.

I’m first in my group to attempt to hit the ball. That’s right, attempt. That’s how good my game was going that day.

I grab my 6 iron. Now, for those that don’t know what this means…if I was any good, a 6 iron should carry my ball about 160-170 yards. And with this shot, I should be using an 8 (130-140 yds) maybe even a 7 iron (140-150 yds). No, I need to use a 6.

I stepped up on the tee box. Set my ball a little higher on the tee than I normally do. Just to get it up in the air a little higher. I figured I would not use all of my 6 iron so I could have better control.

I lined up my feet to the pin, set up the club on the ball and took a deep breath. Looked down the fairway to the pin one last time. Brought my club back and watched the club hit the ball. The hit felt good. I really got the ball on the sweet spot on the club. The ball went sailing down the fairway.

As I watched the ball fly, it wasn’t turning to the right in mid air like it normally does. It was actually going straight! Straight to the flag! The longer I watched it, the farther it seemed to be going. I mean, farther than I normally would have hit it. I must have really gotten a hold of it on the ‘sweet spot’ of the club.

As the ball came down, I seen it hit right in front of the green in line with the flag and bounce up. That was the last I seen of it. It must have gone behind the green. I grab my tee and as I walk off, I ask if anyone seen where it went. Wayne says he thought it went in the hole. Jordan says he heard a noise like it hit the flag. Terry wasn’t sure where it went. Wayne again, tries to assure me it went in the hole. ‘I’m pretty sure you just got a hole in one!” he says. “Don’t do that to me Wayne. Not cool at all!”

As they finish up, Wayne keeps telling me he is pretty sure it went in. We walk down the fairway and I am patiently waiting for the others to finally hit their balls up to the green so I can go look for mine.

As I get to the green, I start looking towards the back of the green by the parking lot for my ball. Nothing. I scan the surrounding rough grass and fringe. Nothing. I continue to look around as I walk up to the flag. Still I see nothing. As I get closer, I see the back side of the inside of the hole behind the flag pole, and no ball. I get up to the hole and look directly in and there sits my ball in the front side of the hole. A hole in one!

I did it. I actually got a hole in one. Un-freaking-believable! My game was over. Didn’t need to get my pitching wedge out. Didn’t need to get my putter out. Didn’t get the disappointment of getting another double boogey on a par 3. I got an eagle! First ever!

So now, I have 2 choices.

1- Hang up the clubs. I’ve done what most will never do in their life time.
2- Keep trying to get another one to see if any skill was involved.

I think I will choose the later. What, am I crazy!? Of course I am. I can’t quit golf! Are you kidding me? Never. I could get a hole in one on every hole and not quit golf. It may get boring, but I’m not quitting!